A Queen's Sorrow
by mirrorOfsin
Summary: She felt it, there in the deep darkness, the smallest spark./Before series starts. Pregnancy cycle. Angsty and T for later parts. Complete. Reviews please! KoA/H throughout.
1. Spark

Set before _The Tudors _but no real historical background to this fic. Take it as it is.

Spark

_She's afraid of the light in the dark/6:58 are you sure where my spark is/Here? Here? Here?/ She's convinced she could hold back a glacier/But she couldn't keep Baby alive/Doubting if there's a woman in there somewhere/ Here? Here? Here?_

She felt it, there in the deep darkness, the smallest spark, a flare of light that made tears fall, limbs tremble and a gasp part through her praying lips. For so long she hadn't dared to keep hoping as all other sparks had been extinguished just as soon as they had started, leaving her even more void and cold.

She stayed knelt on the cold floor gazing at the image of the Virgin Mary's beautiful and comforting expression, one that she had gazed at time and time again. Now her prayers weren't imploring and beseeching but thankful and graceful, vowing to pray at hours on end to show her gratitude. This spark of life would change everything for the better, eliminating doubts and fears harboured both in her and in the king who was desperate for an heir. She had heard the misgivings about her ability to give Henry a son – some had been cruel and made her wonder if she had brought this on herself in some way but now, now she could prove them wrong.

Pressing her hand against her stomach Katherine smiled through her tears and took in a deep breath as she came alive with the child she was carrying within her.

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**A/N**: 1 of 4. Spark by Tori Amos. Reviews would be love :)


	2. Cut

A/N: Thank you to the reviews for the first chapter. I hope you like this one too. I've never done a fic on this fandom so it's good to read that you like it :)

Cut

_I'm not a stranger/No I am yours/With crippled anger/And tears that still drip sore/A fragile flame aged/Is misery/And when our hearts meet/I know you see/I do not want to be afraid/I do not want to die inside just to breathe in/I'm tired of feeling so numb/Relief exists I find it when I am cut_

Fever was raging through her body, her skin felt like fire and she twisted, arched and howled, digging her fingers into the sweat-soaked sheets beneath. There would be few moments when she would come out of her delirious state enough to cry out for her mother and Henry. Some of her ladies openly wept at their lady's distress and the mood was a continuous tension and pessimistic at best. Henry was inconsolable, allowing very few people in his presence preferring to spend much of his time ordering his doctors to do something. Once it was ruled that her fever wasn't contagious, Henry came in and out of her room, sometimes for just a second as if he couldn't stand the sight of her in pain.

By the third day the doctors' only suggestion was bleeding but the dangers of this, the blood loss she had already experienced meant that just a little more could kill her. Henry gazed down at his wife, her brows constricted and sweating, her whole face pained. He knew how much she hated bloodletting but he couldn't see any other way of trying to save her – all other remedies had little effect. He stayed for the procedure, overlooking ever aspect for faults, his patience and faith in his physicians wearing thin. He held her left hand tightly as the doctors made the cut in the crook of her right arm.

Henry felt bile rise up his throat as her blood pooled into the basin, the sharp contrast of crimson against white made him feel lightheaded so he concentrated on her face instead. She had stopped twisting in the bed and the pain on her face slowly fell away, her hand that gripped his gradually became limp and he watched frantically as the doctors felt for her pulse. She was alive but it seemed to Henry that she was barely hanging on. It was time to pray, nothing else could be done now. The fever was reduced to a simmer in her veins and she alone would have to fight it to pull through whilst everyone held their breaths in waiting.

Two days later when she opened her eyes again the world was clear, as if someone had swept away the mist that had previously been there. The doctors were happy to report her out of danger, their tension having stemmed from the fear of the king's reaction if they couldn't save her. Regaining her strength would take time and Henry didn't come to see her until she could leave her bed, for however a limited time. He sat in a chair near her bed watching her wake from her slumber and as she saw him she tried to sit further up but he raised his hand stopping her. They just gazed at one another for a moment; allowing themselves to take in each other before speaking.

"How are you feeling?" he asked evenly breaking the silence between them.

"Tired, but better," she replied softly with a sad little smile. "You look tired too."

He was – he felt mentally and physically drained by this whole ordeal, this week being one of the worst he had ever experienced. Their eyes met and in her eyes he found some kind of relief; for being alive, for seeing him. She looked so fragile swathed in the large bed with her face still pale, showing her weakness. He felt that sudden need to comfort her and in that moment he recognised her as he should have for these past couple of months. His queen. His wife. Ultimately his partner in all things and he recognised that she was his.

"Henry?" she whispered as he just gazed at her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

"I thought I might lose you," he murmured then stood and came to sit by her taking her hand in his. "I gave them permission to bleed you, it was the only way."

She squeezed his hand as if to say it didn't matter and then she asked what she was screaming inside to know. "You have not spoken about the child. How is the child?"

No one had mentioned a thing about the child and she had never seen it, just heard its scream as it came into the world in the middle of the night. Her heart plummeted when she saw Henry's eyes cloud over and he avoided her eyes by looking towards the window.

"Henry?" her voice shook and her hand that was still in his trembled.

"It died. The second day that you were in your fever," he said voice grave and low and still he didn't look at her. He heard her gasp and then smothered by her hand and tears welled in her eyes. She felt the air in her lungs constrict as she tried to drag in a breath. He rose to his feet, letting her hand go and it fell silently against the mattress. She knew then that he was going to leave her, to grieve or because he couldn't face her, both she suspected.

She said he name again, fear laced in her voice as he paused by the door, fingers tight on the handle.

"Was it…" she begun but he interrupted, face and eyes now void of emotion as he regarded her there, the picture of distress.

"A boy Katherine," he kept his voice cold and empty. "It was a boy."

She didn't stifle her sobs as he left, her arms curled around herself as she wept. A boy, a son, an heir. A child that she hadn't even seen nor he had seen her. She cried it out, all the pain and misery she sobbed until she found no more tears left. She pulled up the sleeve of her nightgown and saw the mark where the scalpel had pierced her skin. A flesh wound, one that would heal quickly and as she traced it she felt numb. She knew that it would leave a scar, a reminder of all she had lost and she gently prodded the wound, feeling a sting of pain that, at least, made her feel something.

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**A/N:** Cut by Plumb. Reviews are love x


	3. Damaged

Thank you so much for the reviews - so happy you are enjoying this. Last part coming soon! Hopefully I will be writing some less angsty fics soon :)

Damaged

_Healing comes so painfully and it chills to the bone/Won't let anyone get close to me?/ I'm damaged, as I'm sure you know/I'm scared and I'm alone/I'm shamed and I need for you to know._

On her knees in front of Her Lady the rosary slipped through her pale fingers, her mouth moved repeating prayers over and over imploringly. The people mourned with her, they thanked God that she had survived but this couldn't console her. Healing was painful in both mental and physical aspects and she sought comfort in faith evermore. The doctors advised her to limit her hours in prayer but she didn't heed them, spending as much solitary time with God as she could. She felt damaged and with the distance that some people put themselves at with her she knew they viewed that too. She felt even more isolated than before.

For his part, Henry stayed away keeping to his close friends and advisors and if they did meet he was civil. That hurt even more, the lack of warmth and cold expressionless façade he kept up, cut deeper than before. She knew that he almost blamed her for the death of their son, her weakness and therefore her blame.

Finishing her desperate prayers she left the chapel and re-joined her ladies, all who tried as much as they could to comfort her and stand by her in silent support. She was returning to her rooms by the passage that connected with main corridor when Henry turned the corner with his close friends. He saw her ahead and his expression looked almost alarmed but, knowing that he would have to face her soon, he strode forward not making eye-contact.

"My lord," she said softly making a small dip of her head which he returned. He was going to keep walking but she reached out and placed her hand on his arm freezing him in his step. He gazed down at her hand and she saw a muscle tick in his jaw. "Henry…"

"Leave us," Henry ordered to those around, still not looking at her directly and her ladies and his friends moved further down the corridor at a respectable distance and turned away from them for more privacy. Only then did she slowly remove her hand. "If you wanted to talk you could have picked a more private spot."

She didn't allow herself to flinch at his tone; cold and accusing but kept her own voice soft and low. "But you don't wish to see me," she said honestly and Henry couldn't argue because it was the truth. Yet he wasn't going to let her make him feel guilty.

"What is it you want Katherine?"

She wanted to demand at him to look at her, to see_ her_ and realise how much she was suffering. She deliberated how it was that he could be so cold. She had lost a child, one she had never seen and nearly died herself and he had been so fearful about that. She was lost in wondering why he wanted to pretend that he didn't care. Why did he torment her and punish her for something that they would never understand but had to trust was God's will?

"Katherine?"

She realised that she had been staring and she knew he had seen her torment in her eyes for his own eyes had softened just a little, his tone less harsh and clipped. Suddenly she couldn't word what she wanted to say and let her expression, one of grief, loneliness and compassion, _for him, for them_, show him all that she wanted to say. He gazed at her and she knew he understood, after all these years they had learnt to read one another so well that hiding their emotions was difficult, if not impossible at times.

"Majesty?" Brandon's voice interrupted and though he looked hesitantly between king and queen his voice was firm and captured Henry's attention.

Henry's mask of a cool blank expression shifted over his face and with a curt nod he side-stepped her, marching off with Brandon without looking back. If he had he would have seen her lean against the wall for support, deflated, as if he had stolen all air from her. She shook and her ladies rushed to her side, she was distantly aware of them taking her back to her room. She felt suddenly so ashamed of the weakness she displayed and allowing herself to be so exposed. She stared at the dancing red and orange flames of the fire and she silently vowed that she wouldn't let that happen again, she wouldn't show how far the damage had gone.

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**A/N**: Damaged by Plumb. Reviews pretty please :D x


	4. Broken

**A/N:** The final part and I hope that everyone has enjoyed this fic! Thank you to all the amazing reviews - never expected it :)

Broken

_The worst is over now and we can breathe again/I wanna hold you high and steal your pain/'cause I'm broken when I'm open/And I don't feel like I am strong enough/'cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome/And I don't feel right when you're gone away_

Two months came and faded since the death of their two day old son and spring was slowly creeping upon winter-held England. She mourned greatly after the child that she had never seen, but in her head she called him Arthur, after her first husband and the legends of the king and his reign that the English court aspired to. Little Arthur, who had been unable to fight for life the way she had and had been, what she saw now, as her last hope for a male heir for Henry. Yet soon she knew that it was required of her to come out of her grief and attend court as a queen; her ghostly presence and solemn expression disheartened the people.

She would bare it like so many others had and, trusting in God and His will; she channelled her energies into lifting her spirits to that of her former self, putting court once more into a happy and frivolous state. She laughed at jesters and clapped along with the music, her steady and warm smile lifted every soul that it fell upon. She dazzled and was reminded that she was their Queen of Hearts. Henry was relieved to see her once more in a happy countenance, paying her attention all night, the very image of a loyal and loving husband. Court delighted in romance, especially between king and queen and saw their marriage as not only a formality but a companionship, love and respect, a model for the people.

But beneath every smile, every laugh and kind word the longing and ache clawed at her. No matter how many compliments, gestures of affection and joy could erase it and as she glanced at Henry she felt a sudden dislike, almost hatred rise for a second. He had mourned briefly and in private but as soon as games, wine and women gained his attention once more, he seemed to have almost forgotten. Indeed, he did put out of his mind and she resented him for it. However, she couldn't deny that it did please her to gain his attention and love once more. She had longed for him and as he raised her hand to kiss her fingers he whispered hotly against her skin that he would visit her later. It shouldn't have, but did, fill her up with hope and pleasure because she did love him. Despite everything, she found she could not hate.

As he entered her bedchambers her ladies left at her dismissal quickly, closing the door on them. It had been months since they had been alone like this and she poured out some wine, an attempt to ease the slight anxiety she felt. As she handed it to him he regarded her thoughtfully and then drank, keeping his eyes on her. Placing it down on the table he reached out, fingers playing with the ends of her loose hair.

"Katherine," he said softly and her eyes looked down as she felt him move closer. "I had longed to see you as you were this evening. Court had missed your smile and so had I."

"I had to grieve," she whispered and felt tears prick her eyes. "It hurts so much more to have never of seen him."

"I know, I grieve too," he said and she looked up, eyes searching to see if he was telling a lie. She couldn't detect if it was a lie or if it was truth and suddenly she didn't care. This was Henry, her husband, standing before her and she yearned to have him touch her.

"The worst is over now. I have accepted that it was God's will."

"Yes," he drew her so she leaned against his chest. "I should have seen you more."

"I thought that you blamed me," she murmured, her breath hot on his skin.

"It was God's will, as you said," his arms tightened.

"I had been so afraid, Henry."

He tipped her chin up to look at her. "Afraid?"

"That I would lose you. The pain Henry…" she tried to blink away the tears but couldn't stop one roll down her cheek. He smoothed it away with his thumb and pressed a kiss on her forehead, cradling her closer.

"I wish that I could find a way of taking your pain away."

She breathed his name and slowly he kissed her parted lips so softly that she hardly felt it. Nevertheless, it was if they could suddenly breathe again and as he kissed her with more passion, she trembled, her emotions erratic at the touch; love and loss most dominate within her. They moved together to comfort, to love and reconnecting the ties that they had between them, transcending from physical to a more spiritual love. He whispered to her words of desire and adoration and she almost cried as each heartfelt word pierced her heart.

In the pale light of the creeping dawn he kissed her bare shoulder waking her and she wondered sleepily if he would make love to her again. She smiled softly at the thought of repeating what they had done just a few hours ago.

"Henry," she sighed still smiling.

"I have to go," he said making her smile freeze, the words came down like a rush of cold water on her naked skin. He was sitting up and turned to look down at her, barely able to see her expression in the dim light.

"But it's barely light," she replied finding her tongue at last. Coldness was seeping into her and she shivered once.

"I have an early start, the hunt is today," he explained climbing out of the bed.

"You didn't tell me this," she said lowly sitting up and gathering the sheets around her.

"It had been arranged a week ago. We were hardly speaking and I didn't have a chance to say earlier," he said his voice holding a slight edge to it.

"Surely you can stay a little longer?" she asked anticipating that he would sit back down. He glanced at her again then felt in the dark for his robe, shattering her hopes.

"If I stay then I will never leave or get any of sleep that I need," he answered almost trying to tease her but she didn't smile. He leaned down to kiss her lips briefly before he snuck out like a thief in the night.

The instant he left she felt as if he had broken her, tearing her apart from in the inside out. He had stripped her down to expose her vulnerability and then discarded her, leaving her to try and piece herself back together. Laying back everything suddenly didn't feel right, the space that he should be occupying screamed out the loneliness she sensed. Restless, hurt and barely able to keep her emotions together she got up, pulling on her robe to fight the cold and sat huddled in the chair, waiting for the light to come in and take away the hollow void he had created, knowing that he would come and go again.

_Fin._

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**A/N:** Broken by Seether ft Amy Lee. Reviews would be loads of love x


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